Grandma's Shoes

When I was very little
All the Grandma’s that I knew
All walked around this world
In ugly Grandma shoes
You know the ones I speak of,

Those black clunky-heeled kind,
They just looked so very awful
That it weighed upon my mind.
For I knew, when I grew old
I’d have to wear those shoes,

I’d think of that from time to time
It seemed like such bad news.
I never was a rebel,
I wore saddle shoes to school,
And next came ballerinas
then the sandals pretty cool.

And then came spikes with pointed toes,
Then platforms, very tall,
As each new fashion came alone
I wore them, one and all.

But always, in the distance
Looming in my future there,
Was that awful pair of ugly shoes,
The kind that Grandma’s wear.

I eventually got married
And then I became a Mom
Our kids grew up and left
And when their children came along

I knew I was a Grandma
And the time was drawing near
When those clunky, black, old lace-up shoes
Was what I’d have to wear

How would I do my gardening
Or take my morning hike?
I couldn’t even think about
How I would ride my bike!

But fashions kept evolving
And one day I realized
That the shape of things to come
Was changing right before my eyes.

And now when I go shopping
What I see fills me with glee,
For in my jeans and Reeboks
I’m as comfy as can be.

And I look at all these teenage girls
And there upon their feet
Are clunky, black old Grandma shoes,
And they think they’re really neat.